


In A Word...October

by musicmillennia



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Merlin (TV), The Flash (TV 2014), The Musketeers (2014), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Halloween, Multi, October, writing challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-24 08:31:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4912480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/musicmillennia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two words or less writing prompt challenge for October! Complete with magic, monsters, and mayhem. (Also, more than one fandom, but no crossovers outside of Arrow & Flash...maybe.)</p><p>1. Fall Leaves (Musketeers, Athos/Ninon)<br/>2. Crow (Musketeers, Gen, Sorcerer!Aramis)<br/>3. Pumpkin (Merlin, Arthur/Merlin + Bros of the Round Table)<br/>4. Treats (X-Men: First Class, Charles/Erik)<br/>5. Tricks (Musketeers, Gen)<br/>6. Masks (Arrow & Flash, Oliver/Barry)<br/>7. Stars (Merlin, Arthur & Merlin)<br/>8. Black Cat (Musketeers, Constance/D'Artagnan, Constance & Her Boys)<br/>9. Candles (Flash/Arrow, Felicity & Barry + Unfortunate Oliver)<br/>10. Arachnid (Flash/Arrow, Minor Barry/Oliver)<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One the First Day of Halloween, My Monster Gave to Me...Leaves

**Author's Note:**

> This is not being done with someone else. I don't think anyone would want to do one of these things with me anyway :D so here we are!
> 
> I cannot and will not promise to post each chapter within a specific time frame every day, since my schedule's all wonky with autumn.
> 
> *****
> 
> Prompt: Fall Leaves  
> Ship(s): Athos/Ninon  
> Tags: Modern Setting, Blind Date, They're beautiful together I can't help it, Symbolism with leaves I guess, I dunno I tried

Pay no attention to what Constance says; Ninon is not nervous.

It is true that she's not dated in any serious form since maybe high school, and yes this is a "blind date," but Ninon trusts her friends not to screw her over on this. Even if this Athos does turn out to be as boring and uninteresting as other men she's met, it's not like she doesn't know how to turn on her heel and walk away.

So, no. She is decidedly  _not_ nervous.

She is, however, bloody fucking cold.

Obviously she'd expected chilly weather, especially in the height of autumn. It wasn't like she hadn't brought along a coat; in fact, this one was her favorite for the season, long and red, with deep pockets and a hood just in case. She'd chosen stylish yet sensible boots, a lovely jumper, and thick pants. Somehow, though, she still shivers on her way to this potential disaster and regrets ever thinking of coming early.

Thankfully she doesn't live too far from the lively bistro she suggested as a backdrop for the date, so she regrets her choices inside the warmth of a working heater soon enough. The reservation is under her name. With a grateful sigh, she is seated at her favorite table in a secluded corner and shucking off her coat.

Ninon decides to wait on the drinks until Athos arrives, opting to pull out her small copy of Poe stories in the meantime. What with Halloween just a few short weeks away, she thought she'd amuse herself with horror stories throughout the month. Constance had mentioned Athos was a reader; hopefully he'll appreciate it.

God,  _please_ let him appreciate it. She'd hate to have this date ruined from the start.

"A fitting choice."

Ninon doesn't jump in her seat. If anything, she enjoys the smooth accent coming from her left and decides it's a better first impression than many in her experience. Despite his wearing practically all black, that voice adds a patch of color on its own.

And he does appreciate the book. A good start.

She stands to smile and shake his hand. "Yes, I thought so as well. You must be Athos."

Athos' grip is that of a firm businessman. "Pleasure."

Ninon notices it when they're both seated. A lifetime of schooling is the only thing keeping her composure when she does. For a moment, she considers timing how long it will take for him to notice, but the idea is quickly shot down. Constance had told her that Athos was just getting back into dating himself, and after a bad marriage too; it wouldn't to do embarrass him so early on.

So she gestures to his head and says, "You have a..."

Athos' eyebrow raises. "A what?" he asks, not impolitely.

Ninon finds herself grinning. "I'll get it."

Carefully, she reaches over the table and removes the leaf stuck in his hair. It's a vibrant red, dotted with yellow; around its veins is an arresting dark purple.

It's not big by any means, but Athos' eyes suddenly hold the look of someone who just made a huge mistake. "My apologies."

Ninon takes pity on him, twirling the leaf in her fingers. "No, it's alright. I think this is a more beautiful specimen than most of the dead brown outside." Sparing him another smile, "How strange you should pick up one of the leaves that still resemble life."

She's trying to make a point here, not to flirt (that will come later, she has decided). For a moment it looks as if he suspects the latter, and then...something softens in his expression. No, loosen is the better word; a tension around his eyes that Ninon hadn't even noticed until it's gone. He looks closer to approachable now, though there is a melancholy aspect that remains about him.

But it's good. It's...interesting.

She offers the leaf to him. He gently pushes it back.

"Keep it," he says.

A promising evening indeed.


	2. On the Second Day of Halloween, My Monster Gave to Me...A Crow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Crow  
> Ship(s): Gen  
> Tags: Crows Love Aramis, I don't know if anyone else realizes this, oh wow I'm so late, I def didn't use Eagles lyrics what, Sorcerer Aramis
> 
> Or, three times Aramis feared his magic, one time he realized it for what it was, and when he finally accepted it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to everyone who read the first chapter! :D Sorry I'm late. Depression makes for terrible motivation.
> 
> And also, I am in fact not making up these prompts. I just searched a challenge online and this is what I liked the best.
> 
> I know that Aramis probably had a happy childhood, but hey, let's face it: it's more fun this way.

**5\. Raven Hair and Ruby Lips**

René looked nothing like his parents or sisters. The d'Herblay family was known for their fair hair and grey eyes; he had been born with hair as dark as crow feathers and eyes as brown as the soil. Obviously the common suspicion was that his father was not M. d'Herblay, and if he had not been the only son in the household, he knew his unknown parentage would have put him on the streets.

Naturally, the loyal staff treated this boy with barely concealed disdain. Worse still, his family did the same. If he had to pinpoint it, his early childhood would be where the persona of Aramis first emerged: charming, witty, and unflinching. A man who danced through life because he was afraid of what would happen if he stopped.

The crow first visited him at five years old. At first, René thought nothing of it; there were plenty of crows on his fa...on Monsieur's estate. Until the crow kept appearing.

Somehow, René knew it to be the same crow every time. As months passed, he began to recognize certain attributes: it was slightly larger than its brethren, and was almost silent where other crows cawed to their hearts' content regardless of who may need some peace and quiet. It usually circled above his head, choosing a landing spot that was close to René but never within his personal space. Its visits were sporadic at beast, completely unpredictable at worst.

Then, at five years, René realized two disturbing things: one, the crow visited only when the child's isolation threatened to overwhelm him, and two, upon closer inspection, the crow's eyes were the exact shade of his own.

Catholicism had been shoved down his throat, but he had swallowed and embraced it; even at so young an age, the Bible had been the book he had been put to studying the most. When he looked at the crow and put all of this together, only one thought crossed his mind:  _Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live._

He screamed until the crow flew away and his nanny dragged him back inside. All the while, she mumbled about the sudden rain clouds on the horizon.

 

**4\. Sparks Fly**

The crow never stopped visiting, but René knew how to ignore it, just as he knew how to ignore the rush of  _something_ in his body whenever the air breathed around him.

He was sixteen and in love. Whatever was wrong with him had no business in his life.

Isabelle was unlike any woman he'd ever met. Patient kind, and attentive, René always found himself blooming under her loving smiles and kisses. They shared almost everything together; he'd never trusted someone as much as his Isabelle. When she fell pregnant mere weeks before their wedding, everything was perfect.

But she was also observant and clever. It did not take long at all for her to notice the crow following her fiancé.

All it took was a little tease, one that René  would normally laugh with her about, to set him off. He tried to laugh; what came out instead was a choked noise and a strange crackling sound.

He will never forget the shock (the  _fear_ ) that paled her face.

"R-René?" she whispered, "What's wrong with your hands?"

René followed her gaze and groaned in horror. Royal blue sparks danced around his hands. His hands, which were turning into shades of blue and purple, the colors swirling in his very veins.

The crow cawed. A few days later, Isabelle woke with blood on her clothes.

 

**3\. Echoed Voices**

Aramis had hoped René died with his unborn child. Of course he was wrong.

The crow's feathers were vivid against the white snow and red blood. It looked up at him, familiar face as unreadable as ever, following him with its head as he waded through the corpses of his friends.

The air was cold and still as death. How fitting, mused Aramis numbly. But perhaps he'd somehow made it so. It would hardly be the first time.

A blizzard began when Aramis watched, helpless, as Marsac's pauldron hit the unforgiving ground with a dull  _thump_. If not for that blizzard, he may have been found earlier, before the silence overtook him.

All the while, he wished he could break that damn crow's neck and die with it.

 

**2\. Black and Blue**

Either Heaven was painful, or Aramis was very much alive.

He didn't even think when he batted at the crow, but when it stayed next his thigh, his mind started to turn. It cawed at him, staring with his eyes.

Everything ached something awful, but he was conscious. Breathing. Even if the awning broke his fall, by all rights he  _should_ be...

"You," he whispered, despite how insane it was, talking to a  _crow_ , "saved my life?"

That was the first time he heard a response. Head cocked, the crow seemed to cast a withering look over him; it said, in perfect, deep French,  _Aramis. What do you think I am here for?_ _  
_

If someone else had not screamed first, he most likely would have.

 

**1\. Second Sight**

In Aramis' humble opinion, war was all fun and games before one of his brothers was staring Death in the face.

Of course it had to be the one who, if lost, would see Aramis himself lost as well. Lying there on his bedroll, sweating and pale, Porthos looked...small. Which was terrifying in itself, for Porthos was larger than life no matter what mood he was in.

D'Artagnan and Athos watched over him that night, Aramis arranging them so that he was the closest. It had been a shot to the stomach; his own words mocked him,  _"Death is inevitable, but you'll bleed for hours first."_

Thus, every eye in the measly tent was rapt on Porthos' breaths. A crackling sense of terror loomed over the three men as they dreaded when Porthos' chest would fall and never rise again. It was a waiting game that Aramis despised with every fiber of his being.

A familiar sound of a crow's call neared the tent. Aramis nearly squeezed his eyes shut, but he was too afraid to in case...he let out a trembling breath and studiously avoided looking at the tent flaps.

 _Aramis,_ the crow scolded,  _you cannot avoid me. Suppressing your gift has brought you nothing but pain in the past._

 _Go away,_ he thought at him (for it was a male;  _he_ told him so).  _I would rather not be distracted--_

 _While you wait for the best thing in your life to die before your eyes?_ Aramis winced.  _Our souls are brothers, Aramis. What you feel, I feel. What you see, I see. I do not wish for Porthos to pass from this world any more than you do._ _  
_

The presence of Athos and D'Artagnan prevented him from shouting his anger, so Aramis thundered through whatever connected him to this blasted creature:  _And what do you propose I do, hm? Use_ magic _?_ _  
_

If the crow was surprised Aramis actually mentioned his 'gift' in plain terms, there was no sign. Instead, the crow simply replied,  _Precisely,_ as if it were obvious.

Aramis couldn't repress a quiet scoff. Fortunately, Athos and D'Artagnan said nothing.

 _How would I do that?_ he snapped,  _I've never even willingly tried, let alone in front of others._

 _Need I remind you that you are a_ sorcerer _, not a witch? All you have to do is hide your hands._

_They will ask questions._

_Will they?_

Well...no. At least, Athos wouldn't, and D'Artagnan usually followed Athos' lead. Besides, this was Porthos; the fact that he was  _alive_  would halt any questions. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth and all that.

 _If it bothers you,_ the crow interrupted,  _send them to sleep._

_I am not using such tricks on my friends._

_You are about to undertake a massive healing spell on one of them. Aramis, sometimes you are one of the most contradictory humans I have ever encountered._

Aramis slowly rolled onto his back. Out of the corner of his eye, D'Artagnan and Athos kept glancing at Porthos, their hands gripping each other's as if they could keep their friend alive through sheer force of will.

_You can do that._

_Can I?_ Aramis fairly trembled at the mere possibility. That he was even acknowledging he had this...gift was nearly enough to overwhelm him. To think of  _using_ it was an entirely other matter.

 _I will help you, as I always have,_ promised the crow.  _You have a natural talent for healing already. All your magic will do is amplify this._

_Into what?_

For a moment, it almost sounded like the crow was laughing.  _Into something extraordinary._

As if in a trance, Aramis pushed himself up.  _What..._ he gulped,  _what do I have to do?_

_First, do you wish to send them to sleep?_

"Aramis?"

Athos. Aramis could hardly look him in the eye as he removed his gloves in shaky, cautious movements.

_I-I don't know._

The crow's voice mellowed into a soothing friend's.  _Do you trust them enough with this?_ _  
_

With anything else, Aramis would have immediately answered yes. But this was...the last time anyone saw...

 _That was not your fault. If you are uncertain, send them to sleep. You are more powerful than you realize, Aramis; all you have to do is think of what you want, and..._ Aramis' hands moved towards his now very confused friends,  _touch._

Aramis released a heavy gasp at the sudden power rushing through his fingertips, leaving him dizzy for a whole five minutes after both Athos and D'Artagnan were sleeping soundly against each other.

The crow entered the tent, his dark feathers providing him with the stealth needed under the cover of darkness outside. He landed on Porthos' shoulder, staring up at his charge in what Aramis now recognized as approval.

_Feel better?_

Aramis stared down at his hands, blue and purple and sparking, and he felt...it was like a tremendous weight had lifted from his lungs, a weight he had no idea existed until it had disappeared. It was a sort of euphoria, yes, but more than that, Aramis was  _relieved_.

The crow trilled softly.  _It is not something to be feared, Aramis. What you have is what many only dare dream of having. The most important aspect of magic is intent, not evil._ _  
_

Blinking back tears, Aramis rolled onto his knees and set to work unwrapping Porthos' bandage. He had work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so maybe I did use Eagles lyrics. But only some of the time, so. Shush.


	3. On the Third Day of Halloween, My Monster Gave to Me...A Pumpkin Smash Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Pumpkin  
> Ship(s): Arthur/Merlin, Bros of the Round Table  
> Tags: Awesome Ladies, Arthur Pendragon is an Idiot, Merlin has to Save the Day again, Pumpkin Smashing, Modern Setting, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts (except for a hammer/bat to the head ouch), oh wow I'm late sorry
> 
> In which Arthur "accidentally" summons undead creatures who use pumpkins for heads. Merlin is so done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pumpkin carving is fun, but like with the first prompt, I wanted to put a twist on it. So instead of carving pumpkins, why not smashing pumpkins who happen to be the heads of the undead? :D

Merlin leads a very good life. He's attending his top university, has amazing friends, a wonderful family, and his magic roams free without fear of condemnation.

He also has a boyfriend he can say without hesitation that he loves with all his soul. A boyfriend who is strong, noble, brave...a huge fucking idiot.

"See, Merlin?" Arthur calls to him across the field, covered in pumpkin guts and smiling like the loon he is, "Isn't this better than a night in?"

Merlin also leads a very stressful life.

"Arthur," interjects Lancelot as he rolls over Percival's back to get to the pumpkin-headed zombie at his best friend's back (yes, this is Merlin's Halloween right now), "I don't think you should talk to Merlin for a while."

Good old Lancelot. He and Gwen deserve each other.

Percival laughed, smashing a pumpkin between his two hammers. "Lance's right, Arthur. Spending Halloween surrounded by zombies on a football field wasn't on his list."

Why isn't he dating one of Arthur's friends? They knew what he wanted; they were considerate; they didn't piss off a sorceress and created a pumpkin apocalypse.

Arthur gave a dramatic scoff and swiftly fought his way across to where a withering Merlin stood back to back with Gwaine. One was blasting several pumpkins at a time with magic, the other swinging a baseball bat. (Guess which is which.)

"You wouldn't have it any other way," the arrogant bastard smirked.

 _And_...and. Damn it. He's right.

Merlin cracks a smile. "I'm not showering with you after this."

Arthur rolls his eyes. He's nearly decapitated ( _again_ ); thankfully, Merlin saves him in time ( _again_ ).

"I hate you," he says.

Weirdly enough, everyone somehow manages to reply in perfect unison, "No you don't!"


	4. On the Fourth Day of Halloween, My Monster Gave to Me...A Bag of Treats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Treat  
> Ship(s): Charles Xavier/Erik Lehnsherr  
> Tags: Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, AU - Still Have Powers, Family Fluff, Erik Terrifies Small Non-Mutant Children, It's a Fun Time
> 
> Erik has a sweet tooth. As such, he exploits the hell out of Halloween.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to do Older!Cherik for this, but then I found out that Apocalypse is going to premiere on my birthday! So I thought I'd celebrate that.
> 
> Imagine my laughter when I confirmed that candy does in fact have metals in them. Only about 2% Iron on average, but hey, I figured it would be enough. And Butterfinger also has Magnesium in it >:D Magneto's gonna have a fun time.
> 
> Apologies if I seem a little...silly. My depression's letting me have a good day, and I'm a little dizzy with it.

Charles knows what Erik's doing. It's not like he ever tries to hide it. What's extraordinary is no one else seems to notice.

 _Erik,_ he warns as it happens again. Honestly, he knows Erik does what he wants, but this is ridiculous.

Of course Erik only responds with an unrepentant,  _Charles._

Another piece of candy floats into his mouth. From another random child's bag.

_You're not targeting our children. I want to say I'm proud, but..._

Erik smirks around what is now his Butterfinger.  _Would you truly think me so cruel?_ _  
_

Charles almost snorts. He probably would have, if Sean hadn't squealed and pointed out a new house.

Encouragement isn't good for Erik's...tendencies. But it's terribly hard not to laugh when he starts counting how many "victims" he robs.

Well, he's been good so far this year. Charles will let him have this one.

 


	5. On the Fifth Day of Halloween, My Monster Gave to Me...A Bag of Tricks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Trick  
> Ship(s): Brot4  
> Tags: Ficlet, wow I'm writing a lot of ficlets, sorry about that, Mischief Night, Muskebros, Athos just can't say no to these idiots
> 
> In which Athos, despite being a grown man with a steady job, somehow gets roped into egging the mayor's house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will say that I did get into The Flash and Arrow, so there will be chapters involving them, though I will say I only watch Arrow because the two shows are entwined. I /like/ it, don't get me wrong, but I'm not going to go nuts about it, y'know? Well, aside from Oliver. Because that guy deserves ALL of the hugs. And Felicity may or may not be everything I ever want to marry.
> 
> But anyway, enjoy this garbage.

In the end, they only do half the house, because their Captain pays for the other half.

Does Athos regret anything?

Yes: his life choices that lead him, a grown man who is also a detective, to egg the mayor's house like a fifteen year old.

Does he regret actually egging the house?

...no.

Because Richelieu is many things, but likable is not one of them. Besides, D'Artagnan looks so very delighted with their work.

Really, Athos should have seen this coming. The entire day before, his three friends kept glancing at each other and him as if they were little children about to do something their parents wouldn't approve of and it was going to be  _spectacular._

They showed up at Athos' door, just as he was about to settle down for a nice read. Ski masks were in their gloved hands, intent as clear as their puppy eyes.

"We doin' this or what?" asked Porthos.

Athos looked from him, to Aramis, and back to him. Because he knew that if he looked at D'Artagnan, he'd cave. Mentor he may be, but strong he certainly was not.

Then D'Artagnan had to go and speak, prompting Athos to turn his head and  _look_. It was only polite, and Athos was nothing if not appropriately polite.

"Come on, Athos! It'll be fun!"

Naturally, Athos sighed through his nose and invited them to wait inside his living room while he changed.

And here they are, watching Richelieu turn as red as his  _silk pajamas_ (Aramis and Porthos will never let that go) as he shouts insults at the culprits. Athos knows that he knows who it was, but he also knows they'll not be facing any punishment.

What else does he know?

Well, looking around at his laughing friends, registering his own smile, he can conclude that this is not going to be the last house they hit. And it's going to be  _spectacular._


	6. On the Sixth Day of Halloween, My Monster Gave to Me...A Mask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Mask  
> Ship(s): Oliver/Barry  
> Tags: Masquerade Ball, Ghosts, Meet-Cute, Sort of, Haunted Mansion AU, Sort of, I have 999 problems and being a sucker for masquerades is about 998 of them, the last one being how much of a sucker I am for awful romances, "but there's room for a thousand", "any volunteers?", hey guys wanna hear a joke?, (presents chapter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So remember when I said "enjoy this garbage"? Well, garbage doesn't even describe the levels of trash I've written this prompt.
> 
> I could have gone two ways with this: Halloween masks, or a ghostly masquerade a la Haunted Mansion movie. Then, stupid me thought, why not both?
> 
> By Haunted Mansion AU, I mean that I'm drawing from Phantom Manor, Disney Paris. I guess a little from the movie, but that's just the masquerade part.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of Suicide  
> ANOTHER WARNING: Gore ahead. But it's mild, so it shouldn't change the rating one bit.
> 
> SO, without further ado, I apologize so much for everything.

_"Attend a tale of nuptial doom,_

_A ravishing bride..._

_A vanishing groom."_

Mme. Leota, Phantom Manor

 

* * *

_Welcome, curious friends._ I suppose we should begin this tale the old-fashioned way. That's how these things usually go, isn't it?

Well, Once Upon a Time, there was a wealthy man and his wife, a Mr. and Mrs. Queen. They had one son together, and the wife had a daughter. Whether or not that daughter was also the child of Mr. Queen is still unknown, but this wealthy man was happy with his lot nevertheless.

I say happy. Really, he only seemed happy. For, mere weeks before his son's twenty-second birthday, he shot himself in the head. Driven into despair, the Queen family secluded itself in their family mansion at the top of Arrowhead Hill. For five years, no one heard a peep from them; no visitors visited; no messages were brought. The mansion itself became something like a tomb.

Until Mrs. Queen—Moira was her name—remarried. Her husband breathed life back into the family, and to celebrate their return to society, a big party was held in the mansion. A masquerade, to be precise, and when the clock struck midnight, all of the guests would reveal their faces to one another. If you ask me, Moira always had a flair for the melodramatic.

It was this night that Beauty came to Queen's Mansion. I know, looking around, you may not believe it,  _but Beauty once lived in this house. And it lives here still..._ oh, pardon me. Sometimes my voice just flits in and out. Ahem.

Moving on. So, Beauty came to Queen's Mansion. Of course his name wasn't Beauty, but Bartholomew. What made him beautiful wasn't his lovely eyes or his voice. It wasn't even his blinding smile. No, what made Bartholomew the most beautiful person in the room was the light he brought with him wherever he went. This young man had lived with Death all his life, with darkness and terror, and yet he turned those horrible things and...well, I guess you could say he made his own little sun out of them.

Long metaphor short, Oliver Queen, the son of that wealthy man, was enchanted with him. If ever there was such a thing as love at first sight, it happened with these men. As a token of his affection, Bartholomew gave Oliver his mask, so that he would remember the night they shared. It was a small affair, but durable, and a wonderful shade of green. In return, Oliver wrote him a letter.

A year of nothing outside of short letters never weakened whatever it was that ignited between them. By the time they were reunited for Oliver's twenty-eighth birthday, Oliver had decided to ask Bartholomew to marry him.

But Moira Queen did not approve of her son's plans. In the wake of her first husband's death, the last thing in the world she wished for was to be separated from her children, least of all to by a youth she had never met. She allowed the proposal to happen; she even cheered as Oliver embraced his fiancé. However, she told Oliver that the wedding would take place at Queen Mansion, and began to plan accordingly.

Needless to say, Bartholomew never reached the altar. Some say Oliver Queen died from grief, others from using his father's...methods. Either way, the green mask given to him on that fateful night was found with his body. Legend has it...

* * *

"...that if you listen closely, you will hear phantom music from the ballroom at night. Or, if you're very lucky, Mr. Queen himself will cry out, longing for the love he lost."

Iris turns away from the plaque standing outside the old Queen Mansion on Arrowhead Hill. Of course what the plaque said wasn't  _my_ version; it merely stated the facts of what happened. I thought I would tell it to you myself, instead of you having to listen to whatever garbage the historians came up with. I pride myself as a good hostess that way.

Why are we watching these two mortals, you ask? You're new here, so I'll help you out. When you first appeared here, you went exploring, yes? And you came across a room bedecked with red and gold? That was the chamber Oliver had made for the brief time between their engagement and their wedding. He had a problem with spoiling that boy, but such is love I suppose.

Anyway, you saw this chamber, correct? Very fancy, even in its dilapidated state. We always have a fire going in there— _Master's_ orders. I'm sure you noticed it, just like you noticed a certain portrait hanging over it...? Yes, I see that you did.

Look at that boy over there. Think of the face on that portrait. Ah, you've figured it out. It's uncanny, isn't it? He may have brushed off the legend of Queen's Mansion—yes, he may have spoken about how sad it was, but notice how he's shrugged and walking towards the garden instead of the cemetery—but he is definitely the key to stopping Oliver's moping.

_So shut up and pay attention._

Uh, sorry. Heh, voice thing again.

We have to get him into the house somehow. Here's what we're gonna do...


	7. On the Seventh Day of Halloween, My Monster Gave to Me...A Guiding Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Star  
> Ship(s): Merlin & Arthur  
> Tags: Arthur's An Idiot, Merlin Saves the Day, you know how it goes
> 
> The Once and Future King needs some guidance. He's lucky the Moon likes him so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to just write something like cuddling under the stars. That trope is great, don't get me wrong, 20/10 would recommend, but I can't write that without coming off as a really, really bad YA novel. So, here we are.
> 
> I'm sure someone else has already come up with this concept, so I won't take credit for it. This is really short anyway.

"You don't want to do that."

The voice startles Arthur badly enough for his blade to abandon the enemy general entirely and focus on the newcomer. It's just some boy with dark hair and a ridiculous neckerchief; what's strange about him is he doesn't seem at all frightened by the blade at his throat. In fact, he doesn't even look at it.

"I'm just saying," he says, "you really don't want to do that."

Arthur glowers at him. "And why is that?"

"Well, for one, you don't have to, two, you'll definitely start a war, and three, killing someone when it's not necessary takes away from your humanity."

Arthur will say that, out of all the possible responses he could think of, that wasn't one of them.

"My humanity?" he asks flatly.

The boy nods. "I'm sure you've got some." His eyes—a rare shade of blue, Arthur notes—are wide and vehement, but his tone drips with annoying sarcasm. "And it's kind of my job to make sure yours stays intact."

"Is it now? Well, sir—"

"Merlin."

" _Merlin_ , I am your Prince, and I think I know more than you when it comes to politics. Now if you do not turn around and walk away, I will call my guards—"

"The guards down the hill?"

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "Yes...?" 

"Oh, they let me through."

Arthur's senses heighten with alarm. "Excuse me?" how could they just  _let_ a stranger through their ranks? Unless..."Are you a sorcerer?"

Merlin snorts. "You really have no idea who I am?" When silence meets him, he laughs, "Of course I get saddled with the ignorant prat! Just my luck, isn't it?"

Arthur presses his blade to the treasonous idiot. "I would advise you to explain yourself,  _Mer_ lin."

Merlin doesn't look at all threatened. Raising an unimpressed eyebrow and pursing his lips, he holds Arthur's eyes with no sign of hesitation. Furthermore, he tells the general, "Tell your king that Prince Arthur of Camelot spared your life."

Before Arthur can cry out in protest, the general is running. He makes to sprint after him, but Merlin grips his arm with surprising strength.

"What part of 'you don't want to do that' don't you understand? It's like talking to a brick!"

This time, Arthur pins him to the forest floor. "Explain.  _Now_."

Merlin sighs, put upon. "I am Merlin—"

"We've established that—"

"Do you want me to explain or not?...Right. As I was saying, I am Merlin, brother to the star Aithusa of the constellation Kilgarrah. I'm your guiding star, sent by the Moon—God knows why—to assist you in fulfilling your destiny as the Once and Future King. Now, are you going to try and kill me, or shall we get started?"


	8. On the Eighth Day of Halloween, My Monster Gave to Me...Four Black Cats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Black Cat  
> Ship(s): D'Artagnan/Constance, Constance & Her Boys  
> Tags: I don't even, what is this, Witch!Constance, Familiars, Crack, Utter Crack, Drabble

Constance wakes up noticing two things:

1\. She's naked.

2\. Four likewise naked men are piled around—and on top of—her.

She's pretty sure she only had sex with  _one_ of them last night.

As if he knows what she's thinking about, D'Artagnan lets out a contented purr and nestles snugly between her breasts. How was he breathing? Constance doesn't know. How is she being so calm about four men in her bed? Again, Constance doesn't know.

Oh right.  _She isn't_.

" _Ahem!_ "

D'Artagnan jerks awake. From where he'd been sleeping curled around her thigh, Athos gives an undignified snort, startled, blinking rapidly against the incoming sunlight. Porthos, on her right hip, grumbles something but definitely doesn't wake up. And above her head, Aramis lets out a dramatic catlike noise that Constance's only heard in funny videos.

"Oh," says Athos, "Good morning."

Constance narrows her eyes. " _Out_."

He immediately obeys, hopping from the bed a man and landing a graceful, solid black cat. His collar jingles merrily as he scurries into the hall.

"But  _Constance_ ," Aramis whines, "your hair is so comfortable!"

"You can climb on top of my head later. Out!" when he attempts to stretch in human form right above her face, she shrieks, " _Oi! I said out!_ "

"Fine, fine..." a second black cat leaves the witch's room, this one slinking away and very put out.

Constance rolls Porthos off as best she can. Thankfully he's on the edge of the bed. The cat that yelps from the carpet is quite indignant, but very much awake.

In the ensuing silence, D'Artagnan offers a sleepy smile and asks, "Can I stay?"

And her most recent companion is far too adorable to be mad at right now. "Yes, dear. You can stay."

Another purr, then D'Artagnan's pillowing himself on her again—this time on her stomach. She strokes his hair for a while, just enjoying the moment.

Yet, as her fingers brush against his collar for the fifth time, she murmurs, "Did I just commit bestiality?"

D'Artagnan's purring is interrupted with a snicker. "If people assume that," he says, muffled by her skin, "shove a werewolf novel at them."

"Mm. Point." Constance sighs, "Speaking of which, I've got to check on that lunar potion. Those things are so particular."

"'m sure Aramis can look after that for a bit."

Constance hums, settling back into her pillows. "I suppose it's only right to leave him with  _some_ responsibility. Cats these days."

D'Artagnan's already asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been writing a lot of short things. Sorry about that. I can't say I'll stop, just that I know I'm doing it, and it's because I've got so much stuff to do. Maybe as the month goes on, I'll be able to come up with some longer works. But thank you anyway for sticking around!


	9. On the Ninth Day of Halloween, My Monster Gave to Me...A Candle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Candle  
> Ship(s): Barry & Felicity + Unfortunate Oliver  
> Tags: Innuendo Garbage, Drabble
> 
> Felicity loves to visit Central City; it's the Happy Place. One of her best friends is there too, and he's, in his own words, "always a slut for candle-shopping."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to do like, a dark thing for this. Like a witch's setting or something. But then I thought, "naaaah, let's just do a drabble instead!"

_"Felicity, Felicity, right there!"_

A gasp. _"Barry, yes! Oh, it's perfect!"_

Oliver obviously called at the wrong time.

_"And this - so good!"_

_"It's unbelievable! How did you -?"_

He regrets this decision. So much. It's not like he couldn't've checked up on her later. Wouldn't have been a big deal. But no. No, he just had to have a free moment right now.

Excited moans attack his eardrums. "Um."

Felicity squeaks.  _"Oliver! Sorry! OH! Barry, it's dripping!"_

_"Oh crap!"_

"Is -" Oliver clears his throat. "Is everything alright?"

_"Yeah, we're in Yankee Candle. Everything smells amazing in here!"_

And suddenly, Oliver feels inexplicably ashamed of himself.


	10. On the Tenth Day of Halloween, My Monster Gave to M - KILL IT WITH FIRE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Arachnid  
> Ship(s): Barry/Oliver  
> Tags: Science Gone Wrong, Oliver is a Good Boyfriend
> 
> Barry doesn't mind spiders - when they're just spiders. Fortunately his boyfriend's a good shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, the big 1-0! Unfortunately that doesn't mean I will be making this a long one. Making them short is both easier on my schedule and just more fun for a long challenge like this one.

Impossible things can exist, sure. Doesn't mean that there are some impossible things that  _should_ exist.

Case in point: half-human, half-spider - thing.

"Ah! Kill it with fire!" Felicity cries over the comms, and Barry definitely seconds that.

But Caitlin apparently has a mean streak, because he instantly counters, "No! I need that thing intact! I want so many samples!"

She sounds like she's found the Holy Grail. And yeah, they've certainly found  _something_ , but it's neither of those things. Barry didn't even know it  _could_ be a thing.

Or, for that matter, that it could be fast. Barry's dodging it no problem, but that doesn't change the fact that Oliver can't get a damn shot in. Which means...

"I'm gonna do something, and when I do, you'll owe me like, ten," he tells the Arrow.

He gets a gruff  _"Do it"_ and nothing else, not even a "gee, good luck, sweetie!" 

Okay, considering that, maybe Barry prefers the concise answer.

The Flash zips around and runs right for the arachnid thing. He starts running in swift circles around it, effectively keeping it in place. All the while, he's pleading, "Don't touch me, don't touch me, don't touch me, don't touch me!"

Thankfully, an arrow pierces the creature's chest before any of its hairy appendages can touch the lightning. Barry rushes to a safe distance as it collapses with an ear-splitting shriek.

A moment of silence. Then - "Euuughh!" Barry shudders from head to toe, shaking himself free of invisible spiders. "I'll never look at those little guys the same way again!"

Oliver swings down to his side. "Okay?"

"You don't want me to answer that. Ugh, happy Halloween, I guess?"

Oliver spares him a kiss on his temple. "I'll take Caitlin's samples, then."

"Love you!"

"Uh-huh."

(Let it never be known that Oliver Queen hates spiders with every fiber of his being.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
